Married To The Mafia: Book II

9 - Ten Feet Tall.

Devlin was stunned but he recovered quickly.

"What?"

"Your family home is in Kaliningrad, Russia." She leaned seductively and whispered, "Or am I wrong, Leonid Chernyshevsky?"

For the first five seconds, he stood, staring at her, trying to efface the clanging sounds that was going off in his head, overwhelming him. He tried to school his features to look bored, to look nonchalant or unconcerned, but he couldn't. An electric wire sparked in his brain and went off.

Chagrined, he lunged for her, whacked her across the face and grabbed her neck. "Where did you hear that? How did you find them? Who told you that?!" He hollered, squeezing tighter and then realizing who he was chocking, he released her immediately.

Pamela fell on the bed, coughing hard, breathing slowly. Devlin stood, watching her, shocked to the core, unable to believe he'd raised his hand on his wife. He came back to his senses when he saw she was coughing and gasping for breath and so he raced to the kitchen for a bottle of water and brought it to her. He tried to make her drink it but she slapped it away.

"Babe," He said, tears filling his eyes.

There were tears in her eyes too. Her breathing was ragged and she was holding her neck.

"Pamela I –" He tried to touch her but she shrank away and gave him a look. It was one he hated to see, especially not from the woman he loved.

She looked at him like he was a monster, an abusive person. There was fear in her eyes. Panic, terror. He didn't want her to feel that way, dammit.

"Baby –" He moved towards her and she shrank back, shaking visibly.

"Don't hurt me!"

"I could never hurt you."

"Then go away."

"Please don't let me go away."

She lunged to her feet, grabbed her phone and headed for the stairs. Devlin buried his face in his palms and ran his hands through his hair. How could he have raised his hand on his wife? How could he?

He stood and went after her. He had to apologize. Even if she wants him to grovel on his knees till they bled, he was going to beg her. He was going to weep till she accepts him. He was going to do whatever she wanted. He would go to the fucking moon and pluck it from space if that was what she wanted. He had to beg her.

When he got down the stairs, he barely caught her walking out the front door. He saw Cody standing at the door, looking guilty.

"What?" Devlin barked, angry that Cody had seen tears on his face.

"She said she can't stay here tonight."

"Where will she go? It's late."

"She said she wants to go to – to Deaton's place."

Devlin's silence was think and angry. He gritted his teeth and bunched his fists. "Take her."

"Sir?" Cody asked, shocked. He had obviously expected Devlin to put on a fight.

"Take her." He repeated. "Do anything and everything she wants. When you get there, tell Deaton that if he much as lay a finger on her," He stopped, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. He should be the one protecting her. He should be the one not laying a finger on her. Tears of regret stung his eyes. "Go."

The instant Cody shut the door, he cried bitterly. Who could he blame? His family? Yes, his family. No, they were not his family. As far as he was concerned, he was an orphan. It was the Chernyshevsky family. Those evil people had destroyed a lot in his childhood and had extended their ugly claws into the peaceful life he'd managed to build.